Also Rises
by xoxfiresignx
Summary: Even the bloodiest blade may be cleansed by the gentle light of the moon. [Rated M for occasional violence and mature themes]
1. Prologue

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ðˠɫ_  
__Prologue_

It was long past midnight. The mountain-top village was silent and still, save for the flickering and crackling of the massive fire that burned nightly in the large pit in front of the temple. The Solari never left their houses during the night except for the senior acolytes, who tended the fire periodically. They feared the night - felt lost without the sun's guiding rays spilling over them - and so they hid from it, cloistered in brightly-lit rooms as the moon ran its lazy course across the velvet sky.

A pair of pale eyes caught the firelight, glinting eerily in the darkness for the briefest of moments before their owner ducked her head and scurried into the night. Once far from the ever-burning flame, the girl's paced slowed to a more relaxed jog and her white-blonde hair glowed softly in the gentle rays of the full, fat moon. Her steps brought her far from the village, and with each stride she felt stronger, more sure of herself. The moon was so bright that it lit the rocky trail beneath her feet as she made her way to her favourite spot: a bare cliff on the north side of the mountain. It faced away from the Solari, away from the raucous Rakkor settlement miles below; standing there, she could pretend that she was truly alone.

She stared out into the darkness at the grey and black landscape created by the pale cascade of moonlight. Far away, a river twisted through the heavy night and shone like a white ribbon in the gloom.

The young girl dropped to her knees and raised her eyes to the moon.

ðˠɫ

The young boy dropped to his knees and raised his eyes to the moon.

"Tha's it, boy." A heavy hand dropped onto his head, clumsily caressing the matted tuft of dark hair. The large man's other hand moved to his belt and began unbuckling it. The boy tried to stand, but the man above him forced him back to the ground with a drunken grunt as he struggled to release himself from his trousers. "S'ay there," he warned, swaying slightly and tugging roughly on the boy's hair.

He didn't wince. He didn't show any sign of discomfort; he simply stared at the full moon above, nearly eclipsed by the buildings around them.

The man finally managed to complete his task and returned his full attention to the young boy below him. Vicelike fingers tightened their hold on the boy's hair as the man pulled his face towards his groin with a sloppy, desperate moan.

There was a sudden flash of silver as the boy produced a blade from his boot. The man screamed in agony, stumbling backwards; the boy leapt to his feet and slipped away into the shadows. In the dark, dead-end corner of the alleyway, the boy climbed to the roof of the building he'd been pressed against moments before. Below him, the now-chaste man lay in a growing pool of his own blood, hands clutching at his nethers as his screams blurred into the strident soundscape of Noxian nightlife.

The boy dropped into a crouch to remain unseen, his eyes sharp as the bloody blade in his hand. He stowed it again and returned his gaze to the sky; to the full moon above him, who had so often lit his path and granted him vision in an otherwise dark and cold city-state.

It was long past midnight.

ðˠɫ

**A.N.**

**Randomly came to me today - the idea that Diana and Talon grew up in semi-similar situations of isolation, where they may have formed a connection with the moon watching over them.**

**We'll see how it works out~**

**Don't forget to drop a quick review! Right down there ➘**


	2. Blind to the Truth

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ðˠɫ  
_Blind to the Truth_

"They say the world will end in fire," Brand taunted, launching a blast of flame in her direction.

Diana sidestepped it easily, her jaw clenching. It had been a long time since her last encounter with the ancient pyromancer, and she had forgotten the intensity of his flames. Luckily, the summoner commanding her had not.

She felt the summoner's pull and followed the unspoken order, darting backwards to avoid the sudden pillar of flame that burst from the ground where she had been standing. _He can stun me if that lands_, she thought, throwing a glare and a stream of moonlight from her blade in Brand's direction. _Stay back, stay safe_.

The summoner was clearly skilled, and knew her well. She stepped into a crowd of minions and sliced them to pieces, their broken bodies vanishing immediately as they fell. Brand paced in her periphery, throwing occasional handfuls of fire at the henchmen by her side. Another tug from the summoner made her duck behind a minion as Brand tossed a far more powerful blast in her direction.

She felt the laughter of her summoner and was compelled to let out a harsh bark of her own. Brand's eyes narrowed and he rushed forward, clearly attempting to get into range to target her again. She struck him again, his burning body suddenly awash with white light, and ran towards the powerful turret towering behind her. If Brand's summoner was smart, he wouldn't try to follow.

He followed.

With a harsh grin and a shout of triumph, Diana dashed to Brand. He clearly hadn't been expecting it: her first few attacks went completely unanswered. She closed her eyes for the briefest moment, pulling on the power within her, and was immediately surrounded by a whirling sphere of silver light. Brand threw attack after attack at her as her shield smashed into him and activated fully.

The pyromancer snarled and set the ground beneath her ablaze. She had no time to escape: the pillar shot up around her, consuming her shield entirely and almost obscuring the ball of flame that slammed into her chest a moment later. Her body froze and locked her in place, her mind wiped completely blank. Brand grinned, his eyes burning with excitement as he prepared to end her.

Nothing happened. As the stun wore off, Diana stared in confusion at Brand, whose expression had morphed into one of fury. The burning vengeance spun around, revealing what had saved her life.

Talon gave his teammate the smallest of smirks before sending a trio of blades whipping towards Brand. One of them passed through Diana, tingling slightly as the magic of the Rift protected her from her ally's attack. Brand, deciding not to fight, began to run.

"Nightfall," Diana hissed. She slammed her blade into the ground, drawing Brand back into her range as Talon spun, throwing blades in a ring around him and vanishing. The magic of the Rift brought him back into her view and they chased Brand together, the invisible assassin and the last of the Lunari.

Brand was moments from death, but something held Diana back. Even as she ran, her eyes scanned the murky fog that covered the Rift. Someone was coming; she could feel it.

She was right. Moments later, a large dragon burst from the brush and came flying towards them. Both Diana and the still-stealthed Talon avoided the collision, but suddenly Brand was on the offensive again. With a vicious, animalistic cry, he sent a massive torrent of flame towards her.

_It's going to bounce_, she realized. _We're both going to die_.

It was a split-second decision. Just as the fire engulfed her, she dashed to Shyvana, landing at the half-dragon's side while Brand's magic incinerated her. Instead of bouncing to Talon, the inferno hit her again. Injured as she was, she couldn't take it; the summoner managed to drag her consciousness out of her body just in time for her to watch herself burn. In the strange limbo of magical death, she heard the summoner commanding Talon speak to hers.

"Good guy Diana." Her summoner laughed, already busy purchasing more items to strengthen her when she 'respawned', as the summoners so eloquently put it. She hovered above the field, watching as Talon reappeared, his blades striking Brand and ending his life. Shyvana dug her claws into the assassin, but he managed to escape from her grasp and slip silently into the fog of war again as quietly as he had come.

ðˠɫ

He found her later, standing perfectly still in the moonlit garden. She lived at the Institute of War, but he did not: had he not been compelled by Katarina to accompany her for some reason (she hadn't explained, and he hadn't cared enough to ask), he would not have been able to seek her out after the match had ended, slipping from one public room to another for most of the day before realizing his mistake and waiting for nightfall to continue his search for the Scorn of the Moon.

He stood behind her, hiding in the shadows cast by the large, twisting trees that surrounded them. For a moment he simply watched her, fascinated by the way she was able to remain so inanimate. The light of the full moon made her hair and skin glow like marble, perfect and cold in the crisp night air.

Her voice came to him distantly, as though she were deep in thought.

"Have you come to assassinate me, Shadow?"

He stepped into the light and moved to her side, glancing only briefly at her face. Her eyes were closed, the sigil on her forehead shining as brightly as the moon above. He turned his attention to the sky, his eyes scanning the moon's familiar surface as he stood in strangely companionable silence beside the Lunari.

Nearly ten minutes passed before he spoke. "You saved my life on the Rift today."

"You saved mine," she countered, her tone still remote and dispassionate.

"You sacrificed yourself to allow me to live."

"It was a strategic decision. Either I die alone and give you time to kill the Vengeance, or we both die pointlessly." Finally, she opened her eyes - he saw it on the very edge of his vision - but she merely looked to the moon. "Which would you have chosen, were it your choice to make?"

He nodded slowly and turned to leave.

"The Moon knows you, Shadow," she said, stopping him in his tracks. "She has guided you in the past and She will do so again." He remained still, unsure of what to say. "You simply need to trust Her as you did then."

He frowned, quelling his urge to turn back to her.

"You're speaking nonsense," he grumbled, his tone harsh.

Diana let out a rough bark of laughter but still remained a statue in the garden. He waited for her rebuttal, but none came. He glanced back over his shoulder to see her slowly drop to her knees and stretch her arms out to her sides, eyes closed and face turned towards the moon. Unsettled, Talon tore his eyes away from the woman and moved slowly and silently back to the Institute's brightly lit and boisterous halls.

Alone in the garden, the sigil on Diana's forehead seemed to glow more brightly, and her lips were upturned in what may have been a close approximation of a smile.

ðˠɫ

**A.N**

**Do I know where this is going? No.**

**Am I enjoying writing it? Yes.**

**Do I want you to review? You bet.**

**Do you know where the review box is? Right there **


	3. Don't Cross Me

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ðˠɫ  
_Don't Cross Me_

Katarina did not seem to notice that her companion had returned to her room. She lay lazily on the sofa by the fire, one leg hanging over the back of it, spinning a knife through her fingers with deft precision. The silver of the blade caught the firelight and sent spots of light dancing around the extremely ornate room that the eldest Du Couteau had somehow commandeered for her visit to the Institute.

Talon shrugged his cloak off his shoulders and tossed it to the bed before rounding the sofa and pushing Katarina's legs down to make room for himself. Once he was seated, the redhead kicked her legs up into his lap, not caring that her boot connected briefly with his chin. Rubbing the spot carelessly, Talon watched the spinning weapon with casual interest until Katarina stopped spinning it and leapt up to press the point of it against his throat.

He batted her away without real concern, raising an eyebrow as the knife clattered to the stone floor near the hearth. She responded with a raised brow of her own, her scarred face twisting into a grimace of distaste as she crouched on the cushion beside him.

"What's got you so dull?" she demanded, grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging his head back in order to meet his eyes. He reached up and took her wrist in a crushing grip until she released him. "Someone's touchy," she grumbled, tearing her hand away and rubbing her wrist with an annoyed huff.

"I'm not in the mood, Katarina," he said coldly, his voice grating like steel on stone. The woman stared at him for a moment before smirking cruelly and sliding into his lap. "Katarina…" he warned, his hands falling on her hips as she straddled him.

"What's wrong, baby brother?" she teased, lowering her lips to drift gently along his neck. "Don't you find me… beautiful?" She let out a rough laugh as she mocked her sister, her lips dropping tiny kisses over his skin.

"Is this why you brought me with you?" he asked, ignoring her touch as he always did. "To entertain you when you see your Demacian meat stick but aren't allowed to touch him?"

In response, she sunk her teeth into his flesh, drawing blood and a low grunt of pain from him.

"Don't speak," she murmured against his skin, her body lithe and supple as it pressed against his. "You ruin everything when you speak."

Talon closed his eyes, obliging the woman to whom he essentially belonged. In his mind's eye, he imagined the light of the full moon above him, guiding him to safe and quiet places in the dead of night.

_'You simply need to trust Her as you did then.'_

He wondered, as he often did, what would have become of him had Marcus Du Couteau not taken him in as a young man. He couldn't shake the feeling that he may have found guidance from another source.

Then Katarina slipped to the floor between his legs, and he stopped thinking altogether.

ðˠɫ

While Diana enjoyed the ambiance offered by the Institute's spacious and exotic gardens, they had one major flaw: even in the dead of night, it was nearly impossible to be alone there. After Talon had left her, the Lunari had enjoyed a mere hour of tranquility before a small group of novice summoners had stumbled in, loudly intoxicated, and ruined the sanctity of her space. She had slipped into the shadows and escaped their drunken banter before they discovered her presence.

Summoners were a necessary evil in her life - a guiding force on the Fields and a source of protection off - but she kept her interactions with them minimal and at arm's length. Their reactions to her were far too inconsistent. Sometimes they admired her; on occasion, they wanted her.

Far more often, they feared her.

_As they should_. She crouched in her second-favourite place within the Institute's grounds, her eyes still drawn inexorably upwards to the globe of soft light she revered. It was a far more secretive place, this; much closer to the sky, to the moon, and to the solitude she sought on an ever-more-increasing basis.

"It is fortunate that you remain so still," a cold voice crooned from behind her. "Otherwise you may meet an untimely demise in the courtyard below you."

Diana had no need to move to identify the intruder. Whenever she looked for solace on the rooftop, she was denied. With a slight twitch of her lips, she realized that what she sought may not be solace at all.

"Must you be so dramatic?" the Lunari replied, her skyward gaze never faltering. "We both know you would catch me should I fall."

There was a rustling of heavy fabric and a low chuckle as Morgana moved to sit beside Diana. Though the position was undoubtedly uncomfortable, the Fallen Angel was graceful in every motion, smoothing her skirt over her legs and folding her tattered wings down her back so as not to accidentally knock Diana from her perch - it had happened once, months before, and it was only Morgana's Dark Binding that had kept the younger woman alive.

"Indeed," Morgana said, nodding her agreement. She turned her eyes to the moon and let out a slow sigh as the light washed over her tortured skin. In Diana's presence, moonlight eased pain and brought clarity to even the most troubled mind. It was a shame that the Lunari allowed so few people to experience her influence.

"The Moon sees all," Diana said thoughtfully, after several moments of silent camaraderie. "Yet She does not see you."

Morgana's lips twisted into a grin that would have left a weaker being cold. "That may explain why you seek my friendship so desperately."

Diana glanced sideways at the Fallen Angel and raised one eyebrow in what may have been a teasing manner.

"You're the one who seeks me out, Angel," she countered, a playful sort of light dancing in her pale eyes. Her expression was nearly mirrored in the twisted features of her associate, and for a moment, Diana could almost have admitted that she enjoyed Morgana's company.

ðˠɫ

**A.N**

**It would seem that this story will take quite a while to develop. **

**I hope you're okay with that.**

**I also hope you're okay with the Kat/Talon dynamic I've brought up here.**

**I honestly don't care if you're okay with a Morgana and Diana friendship, because I've loved the idea since around September (I started playing LoL in August).**

**At this point it would appear that character development is the name of this game.**

**I'm enjoying it. Are you?**

**Always remember to review! ↘**


	4. I Cannot Turn Back

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ðˠɫ  
_I Cannot Turn Back_

The full moon was waning. Diana could see it clearly in her mind's eye, even while the harsh sun sailed across the sky on its burning course from East to West. Her connection to the moon was constant and intense - no matter the time of day, no matter the state of the sky, she could look up and find Her immediately - but it was strongest during the full moon, and as the cycle continued on Diana couldn't help but feel a sharp ache of loss.

The moon was only truly full for a moment - less than a breath, really - and in that moment the lines between the Lunari and her celestial avatar disappeared completely. The Moon saw all, and what She saw, she gave to Diana. Images, voices, thoughts, feelings, emotions: all came pouring into the last of the Lunari in a rush of knowledge during the monthly instant of the full moon.

Which is why, two days after the Filling (as she had dubbed it in her mind) that she had experienced in the garden with Talon's presence echoing in the silence around her, she was many miles east of the Institute of War and had built herself a small camp in the wilderness. She needed neither fire nor blankets: she slept through the day and traveled at night, awakening when dusk blanketed the sky and moving swiftly through the darkness.

It was mid-day, and a disgruntled Diana cracked open her eyes with a hiss of displeasure. For a moment she lay still, listening intently for whatever had awoken her, her eyes narrowed against the unforgiving light and fixed on the bank of trees behind which she was hidden. The noise came again: the crack of a whip, the creaking of wheels, and then a women's harsh laughter.

Diana lay still until the travellers passed by on the road below her, then visibly relaxed, her hand releasing its firm grip on her characteristic crescent blade. She cast her eyes to the sky and let out a sigh of what may have been relief when they lit on the pale, distorted circle that was the waning gibbous. _She sees all_, she assured herself; then she fell into sleep once more.

Dusk came; Diana moved. For four whole days the routine continued - camp at sunrise, advance at moonrise - and the waning moon lost more and more of its radius each night until she arrived at her final destination with the last quarter moon of the cycle above her.

The city of Noxus was, for all intents and purposes, impenetrable from the outside; built into the side of a mountain of granite and surrounded by a highly-toxic moat, roads into the city were few and far between. There were guards at every gate, demanding paperwork and authorization, and if none was offered (sometimes even if it _were_ offered) they would not hesitate to drive a sword into one's chest or to slide a knife across one's throat. It was foolish - suicidal, perhaps - to attempt a covert entrance.

Unless, of course, one happens to know about the array of secret tunnels through the mountain, beneath the city and moat, built centuries before when Noxus was a mere mining settlement.

The Lunari found her way through the rowdy streets without major incident, staying mostly unseen by moving quietly through the shadows. Those who _did_ see her furtive movements thought nothing of it and drew no attention to her; she was not the only person seeking the safety of darkness. The hooded cloak tugged hard over her head hid her glowing sigil from view and concealed the crescent-shaped weapon at her side. She was silent, sleek, and skillful; with the moon above her, visible despite the sporadic glow of streetlamps staining the night, she was unstoppable.

Something sharp dug into the pale skin of her neck, and she had only a moment to see the knife shining silver in the moonlight before she was dragged backwards into an alley.

ðˠɫ

"Give me a reason not to kill you," Talon growled. He pushed the Lunari face-first into the brick, his body blocking all view of her from passersby. If anyone should happen to glance down this alley, they would only see the hulking shape of a man against the wall. He had held many potential assassins in precisely this position before, right down to the blade pressed tightly to the precious veins in her neck.

"I have done nothing wrong," she replied, her voice frustratingly calm, given her position. He felt her shift beneath him and drove more force into her body, pinning her roughly in place with his own.

"No one is allowed into Noxus without authorization," he said harshly, grabbing her wrist with his free hand as she reached into her cloak. He twisted it until she let out a short grunt of pain. "Did you follow me here from the Institute?" he demanded, twisting harder.

"My business in Noxus is my own," she hissed, teeth gritted against the pain. "It has nothing to do with you, Shadow."

Talon eased his grip slightly but kept hold of her wrist, the knife still digging into her throat as a warning. "I should still kill you," he grumbled, without much rancour. "How did you get into the city?"

He had seen her in the streets from the window of his room in the Du Couteau mansion nearly an hour before. How he had noticed her, he couldn't say - his eyes had simply been drawn to her shape in the shadows, and the way she crept through the night had struck a chord of familiarity within him. Minutes later he'd been tracking her, following her footsteps with ease. The streets of Noxus were his home, his stomping ground; to be out in them again, tracking unsuspecting prey in the night, felt habitual and comforting after weeks of travel with Katarina.

He had to admit, she moved well: had he not been trained by life-or-death circumstance, he may have lost her several times during her sojourn into the dank and desolate Noxian night-scape. She had nearly slipped away several times before reaching this alley - a location with which Talon was extremely well-acquainted from his time on the street - and so he had been forced to make his move early, rather than risk being left behind if he attempted to track her all the way to her destination.

Diana had the gall to laugh. "The Moon sees all, Shadow," she said cryptically, drawing a growl of displeasure from Talon's lips. The woman was at his mercy, and she had the gall to be perplexing? He spun her around, wrapping one hand around her throat and pinning her to the wall again. The sigil on her forehead glowed faintly beneath her hood, and her lips twisted into a clear smirk. "Have I angered you?"

Talon kept his annoyance in check, raising his knife to press against her armour. The thin blade slotted perfectly into the gap between her chest plate and the neck guard below it. "Why are you here?" he asked, rather pleased with how calm and measured he was able to make his tone.

"I have already told you: my business is my own." She met his eyes and for a moment he was thrown by their intensity. "I have no intention to cause pain, suffering, or unrest to any citizen within these walls. I swear it, Shadow," she added, clearly reading his expression of distrust.

"Why do you call me that?" The question was drawn from his lips without conscious thought, spurred on by the natural way the word fell from hers. Her expression changed - so slightly that he couldn't be sure he hadn't imagined the widening of the eyes, the softening of the lips.

"Because it is your name," she stated simply. His hand still held her throat, but she made no move to escape.

"It's the name _they_ gave me," he growled. "The League." Diana's head jerked in a half-shake.

"No. The Blade's Shadow is what the League calls you, just as they call me The Scorn of the Moon." A slight grimace; one that he mimicked in shared distaste. "Shadow is the name you were given here, on the streets. Before you were Talon. Before you were a Du Couteau." Talon felt his stomach twist as she spoke. "You were a boy, and you were alone, and you were Shadow. That is the first name you enjoyed, and so that is the name I intend to call you."

Talon dropped his hand. "You shouldn't know that," he said quietly, confusion colouring his words and thoughts. It was true: before General Du Couteau had taken him in, before he'd become Talon, the low-lives and guttersnipes of the Noxian slums had called him Shadow. The thief in the night. The blade in the dark. He had carved a name for himself out of the wretched, rotten underbelly of this great city just as he had carved out his life.

And somehow this woman knew it.

"The Moon sees all, Shadow," Diana repeated, almost soothingly. "And She knows all."

He couldn't stop himself. He looked up, his eyes locking on the half-moon above them. The light filled his eyes, filled his mind, and for a moment he was a blank slate as he must have been at birth. It was a strange feeling - unsettling, but not unpleasant.

When he returned his gaze to Diana, his eyes found nothing but brick.

ðˠɫ

**A.N**

**Please forgive this update for coming late; writer's block is a pain in the eh ess ess.**

**Also forgive the shortness of my updates, and that my Diana segments tend to be longer than my Talon segments. I tried to rectify that in this chapter.**

**The Diana section in this chapter was originally intended to be much, much longer, but I opted to cut it into two and put the Talon interaction in the middle. Expect the next chapter to arrive in a much more timely manner with much more Diana depth.**

**On a positive note, I think I may have more than a general idea of how I want this story to work!**

**The concept of the Filling came to me while I was researching moon phases. Upon discovering that the moon is only truly 'full' for a second, my imagination went into overdrive. I quite like what I've done with it.**

**Thank you for the reviews! I'm terrible at responding to them, but know that I read and love each and every one.**

**As always, remember to review! ↘**


	5. On the Razor's Edge

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ðˠɫ  
_On the Razor's Edge_

"You should have killed her!"

Talon sighed and leaned back in his chair, the tightening of his grip on his glass of wine the only indication that Katarina's rage was irritating him. He didn't bother looking at the redhead, knowing the exact pattern of her reaction after years in her company. Any moment now…

A knife _thunked_ into the table beside his hand, close enough to graze the skin. He smirked slightly, ducking his head to hide the expression from Katarina. _So predictable._

"Katarina," a husky voice purred gently from the doorway. It was accompanied by the sound of rough skin rasping against the kitchen's stone floor, and Talon glanced up to see the younger Du Couteau place a careful hand on her sister's shoulder. "Calm yourself."

As much as Katarina insulted, teased, and spoke ill of her serpentine sibling, Talon knew that the two women shared a bond he would never understand. At Cassiopeia's touch, Katarina slumped, her twisted expression softening into a gentle frown. She let Cassiopeia guide her to the chair beside Talon's and fell into it, glaring sideways at him but saying nothing. Satisfied, Cassiopeia moved to curl up opposite her two older siblings - one related by blood, the other by the blade.

"How much did you hear?" Talon asked, pulling the knife from the table and handing it back to Katarina. She took it without looking at him and stowed it away - exactly where, he didn't bother looking. Katarina's knives were omnipresent - before leaning her elbows on the table and staring across it at her sister.

Cassiopeia shrugged, the movement graceful and elegant. Even in her cursed form, the youngest Du Couteau was the essence of poise. Talon couldn't help but admire her strength, remembering just how difficult the adjustment to her new strength and bestial urges had been. "Enough," she said simply, reaching towards Talon expectantly. He passed her his glass and she took a long drink before pushing it towards Katarina. "This is an interesting situation, to be sure."

"He should have killed her," Katarina grumbled, finishing the wine with a grimace of distaste and slamming the glass back down.

Cassiopeia clicked her tongue admonishingly. "You know that wasn't an option, Katarina. As the figurehead for a nearly-dead people, Diana is protected in ways that most champions are not. Valoran would be in an uproar if she were murdered in Noxus, even if she were trespassing. Our tenuous and fragile peace with Demacia would be shattered and the League would have no choice but to punish us as a nation for the actions of one man. Talon made the right choice."

Talon grinned smugly at Katarina, who replied by procuring a knife from who-knows-where and aiming it at his throat.

"That being said!" Cassiopeia interrupted quickly, snapping her clawed fingers to draw the redhead's attention back to her and away from Talon's blood. "Talon, it was foolish of you to let her slip away from you." Katarina let out a rough bark of triumphant laughter and Talon bared his teeth, silently daring her to attack him again. Cassiopeia's words, however, sunk into him like barbed wire. He _had_ let her escape; he had let her baffle him with her enigmatic words and her impossible knowledge of his past, let her get under his guard, and she had vanished from his grasp like fog in the night.

"I know," he growled, avoiding all four eyes that stared at him. "I made a mistake." It almost caused him physical pain to admit it, and his voice dripped with shame - shame that evaporated when he felt the rough touch of Cassiopeia's hand on his.

"Potential repercussions are minimal," she assured him kindly. "She can't murder a Noxian citizen while trespassing on Noxian soil. She's attempting to rebuild a decimated civilization from the ground up; she can't afford the scandal."

"So, what?" Katarina hissed, glaring at her sister's hand until the younger woman retracted it. "We do nothing? We _know_ she's broken our laws and we pretend it doesn't matter?" She pushed herself up from the table and stormed from the room, swearing under her breath as she went.

Talon let out a sigh of relief. The fact that Katarina has left without further argument meant that she agreed to the decision but was unwilling to state so outright. _Stubborn bitch_, he thought, almost fondly.

He met Cassiopeia's eyes again. They danced with mirth - clearly, she shared his thoughts on her sister's antics. He couldn't keep the slight smile from his lips. With a polite yet dismissive nod, Cassiopeia began to slither after her sister. Despite her obvious desire to leave, Talon couldn't stop himself from calling her back.

"How much do you know about Diana?" he asked, keeping his voice casual, as though the question were a passing fancy of no real concern.

She tilted her head at him curiously before answering. "As much as most, which is practically nothing. She lives at the Institute but disappears for weeks at a time, appearing only when she's summoned. She has some sort of personal history with Leona, but the Solari refuses to speak of it." She frowned for a moment, her lips pursed in thought. "I've heard rumours that she and the Fallen Angel are friendly. If you want more information I'd suggest going to Morgana."

Talon nodded and toyed with the empty glass as Cassiopeia left, presumably to find her sister and calm her down again. If he recalled correctly, Morgana occasionally operated a food cart in this very city. With a wry, satisfied grin, he realized that the city square would be hosting its weekly Market Day in just a few short hours.

Perhaps he was in the mood for some pastries.

ðˠɫ

Diana's destination was a dingy sub-let on the edge of the city. After her unexpected encounter with Talon she had moved from the streets to the rooftops, letting the Moon guide her way to the grungy, dirt-darkened window she sought. As she crouched on the rickety balcony connected to the apartment in which her target lived, a pale face appeared in the window, blurred by grime.

The young boy stared up at the crescent moon above, his eyes filled with wonder. Diana watched from the shadows, affection for the child swelling in her chest. He was lonely and lost; too kind to gain acceptance in Noxus yet too fearful to escape the city and find his true place in the world. The Moon had shown Diana how to find him; now Diana would show him who he truly was.

She lifted her head to such an angle that the sigil on her forehead caught the moonlight and heard a gasp from behind the glass. The child vanished from the window, appearing moments later on the balcony. He was barefoot and still wearing his nightclothes, but the look he gave her was one of amazement.

"It's you," he said quietly, stepping forward with one hand outstretched. She let him press his fingers to her forehead, assuring himself that she was real, before standing to her full height. "You came. I had a dream…"

"Silence, Jakus," she murmured, touching his cheek. "Follow me."

She climbed over the railing and jumped lightly over to the roof of the neighbouring building. Jakus followed without hesitation, leaping into her proffered arms as though he had known her all his life. She took his hand and moved quickly, silently across the rooftops.

"Slow down," he cried, fear in his voice as he tripped over an uneven tile and fell to his knees. "I can't see!"

Diana stopped and kneeled beside him. "Open your mind, Jakus," she said softly, lifting his chin to meet his eyes. "Your eyes are trained to see only darkness. Look to the Moon and let her teach you how to see the light, as I do."

For a moment, Jakus's dark eyes were filled with nothing but pain and fear. Then, slowly, she saw realization dawn across his features. Looking around, she knew that he now saw the night as it truly was: full of light and safety rather than darkness and danger. He grinned up at her, confidence shining from his eyes. She grinned back, brushing his unkempt hair back from his forehead.

"You came for me," he said quietly, not yet standing. "How did you know about me? How did you know my name?"

Diana pressed her fingers against her forehead. "The Moon sees all, young one. She saw you, and She saw your pain, and She gave me a mission: to find you, and to show you your true path." She moved her hand from her own forehead to his, and at her touch his skin seemed to glow. "You are a Lunari, Jakus. Your connection to Her is strong and deep. She has watched over you since you took your first breath and She will watch over you until your last, but you have to trust Her."

Jakus closed his eyes for a moment, and the strange glow on his forehead briefly took the form of the Lunari crest before fading. "I trust Her," he breathed, his small heart pounding in his chest.

"Do not forget who you are, Jakus," Diana murmured. "Remember to look for the light. Even when darkness threatens, there is always light." She leaned forward and pressed a kiss against the boy's forehead. A single tear fell down his young cheek and she brushed it away. "Keep to your path and I will find you again."

"Don't leave me," Jakus begged. He reached blindly for her but found nothing to grasp. When he opened his eyes he was alone, kneeling on a rooftop under the light of the Moon. Though he was several buildings away from the dreary and soiled set of rooms that had housed him for 10 years, he finally felt at home.

Diana left Noxus the same way she's entered and began the long journey back to the Institute. Moving in silence through the unchecked wilderness, Diana felt a strange sensation within her, as though a cord were tugging her back towards the child she had left behind. She smiled and let the cord settle in her chest along with all the others, each one a testament to a life inexorably altered by the touch of the Moon.

The Lunari would live again.

ðˠɫ

**A.N**

**Yes, Diana has been running around Valoran, finding children touched by the Moon and showing them their true selves.**

**Yes, Talon is going to have to choke down some burnt cookies to get the information he seeks.**

**Yes, I have a plan for this story.**

**Yes, I'm going to talk about Leona eventually.**

**Yes, I'm enjoying this story.**

**Yes, I want you to review! ↘**


	6. Embrace the Night

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ðˠɫ  
_Embrace the Night_

Diana had only been traveling for a few hours when she heard it: a high, mournful cry that pierced through the night like a bolt. She stopped in her tracks, crouching low to the ground to reduce the noise of the wind whistling through the branches above, and listened. The cry came again, anguished and despairing, and though it echoed strangely through the woods Diana was able to determine the direction of its source with little difficulty.

Changing her course, she headed deeper into the desolate darkness of the forest, seeking the creature who could produce such a melancholy howl. She moved in much the same way she had moved in Noxus; slowly, silently, careful to avoid cracking twigs or rustling branches. She knew that the beast she sought would hear the slightest sound - the huff of a breath, the fall of a leaf - so she did everything in her power to remain soundless.

On the edge of a small clearing, a familiar metallic smell reached her nose. She stopped and crouched again, searching for the cause: there, from the leaves of a sapling no higher than her knee, dripped a liquid turned black in the silver and grey mottled light from the moon above. She dipped one finger into the pool collecting on the dry earth and brought it to her lips. It was blood, still warm even in the chill of night.

The cry came again, much closer this time, and Diana straightened. Her quarry lay in the clearing just past the trees behind which she stood. She saw the creature through the waving branches and felt a sting of sympathy as she watched it lay itself down and close its dark, expressive eyes. A shuddering breath wracked its body, silver fur rippling from the effort, but it made no attempt to move. Even as Diana pushed her way into the clearing, all thought of stealth forgotten, the beast lay still; a dying animal giving up in its final moments.

The Lunari rushed to the wolf's side, brushing one hand down its back as she knelt in the tall grasses surrounding them. The wolf's eyes opened again and it let out a half-hearted growl in protest and warning.

"Hush, little one," Diana murmured, pressing her fingers lighting to the wolf's forehead. He was young, she realized with some surprise; it was atypical for a pack to leave a youth behind, as they were usually best-suited for a hunt. Examining his body with gentle hands, she easily found the reason for his anomalous lone-wolf status: a deep gasp in the canid's side, consistent with the antlers of a buck. "Someone fought back, hm?" she asked, keeping her tone soothing as she brushed the blood-matted fur away from the wound. It was deep and had bled significantly, but the wolf's internal organs appeared undamaged.

He let out a whimper as Diana removed her right glove with her teeth, the other hand still gently cupping his head. His legs kicked and his whimpers turned to howls as she pressed her fingers directly against the bloodied slash; he snapped at her left hand but she pressed his head into the grass, turning her gaze to the quarter moon above. After a few moments of futile struggling, the wolf relaxed as her power washed over him.

The skin beneath Diana's hand began to knit and tie itself back together.

It only took a few moments for the wound to heal, but by the time Diana's magic faded her vision was blurry and exhaustion was crawling over her limbs like a thick fog. She could have simply stayed at the wolf's side and eased his pain until he passed, but something about the anguish in his cries had urged her to save him, despite the difficulty. She understood how it felt to be abandoned by those who were supposed to love and protect her. She knew the unending misery of betrayal.

The magic had completely drained her; she didn't even have time to replace her glove before she was falling sideways into the grass. She was vaguely aware of the wolf standing, howling - a different sound now, a triumphant sound - and curling protectively around her spent and weary body before sleep claimed her.

ðˠɫ

Market Day in Noxus was even louder, rowdier, and more rambunctious than usual - but not by much. As much as Talon detested crowds, preferring to work from the shadows, he couldn't help smiling from a twinge of nostalgia as he made his way through the seemingly endless throng of people congregating in the city square. How many times as a child had he spent darting through this horde, picking pockets and lifting food from stalls while Kavyn caused distraction after distraction for him. They'd called him Shadow then, the Shadow that stole food and supplies without a trace.

After Kavyn's body had been found in the sewers, he was called Shadow for a different reason.

Despite how those years of his life had ended, Talon found he could still look back on them with fondness. Life had been simpler then: a day-to-day fight for survival, with moment-to-moment decisions. No politics, no diplomacy, no long-term concerns. No whims dragging him into the busiest and arguably most dangerous place in Noxus without a plan beyond talking to a volatile and powerful mage about a frustrating woman who knew too much about his life for comfort.

Yes, life had definitely been simpler as a street rat.

His gaze - constantly sweeping over the mass of people - landed on a boy, no older than ten, whose hands were wrist-deep in a bucket of berries as the stall owner negotiated prices with a haughty-looking woman with a curved sword on her belt. The boy noticed Talon's gaze and prepared to bolt, expecting the man to call him out; but Talon simply shook his head and averted his eyes. It was his duty as a military official to uphold the law within the walls of Noxus, but if a man couldn't guard his own berries he deserved to be plundered.

And if a woman didn't notice when her own weapon was lifted from her belt and thrown, jewelled sheath and all, to the feet of a surprised urchin (whose surprise was quickly stowed away along with the gilded sword) then she didn't deserve to keep it.

Such was the Noxian way.

Talon was still grinning from the thrill of a successful theft when he broke through the crushing mob of shoppers and came face to face with... nothing. He looked around in confusion. The crowd around him still milled and yelled and haggled and swore, but where he stood - practically the centre of the square - was completely devoid of people. It seemed that the Market-goers were purposely giving this particular area a wide berth, avoiding it as though it were plague-ridden. They even ducked their eyes, though several of them gave Talon looks of warning as they scurried past.

At the centre of this vacuum (20 paces in diameter, at least) stood a simple food cart. The sign above the cart read _Sinful Succulence_ in dripping letters, and behind it stood Morgana.

She straightened her apron as he approached, and an ill-disguised expression of excitement graced her features as he stepped up to the cart and looked at its proprietor.

"Ah, Talon!" she greeted him, her harsh voice cheerful in a way that made him feel more concerned than welcome. "How can I help you today?" She waved one pale hand over the cart's offerings as though she were displaying gold and gems, rather than what appeared to be shrivelled cookies and slimy-looking cupcakes.

"Information," he said, attempting to deter her sales pitch.

Morgana's face fell. "Oh," she said coldly, then perked up again. "I'm sorry, but Information only comes in a combo deal with one of my delicious baked goods!"

Groaning internally, Talon looked over the 'treats' again, searching for the lesser of the various evils available. "I'll take a… Chocolately-Chokery Carnage Cookie," he said slowly, squinting at the small sign above a plate of suspiciously blackened ovals. The confection was pushed into his hands at breakneck speeds, and he was very aware of the Fallen Angel's eyes boring into him as he took a tentative bite.

It tasted vaguely of chocolate but mostly of charcoal, and the texture was so dry and powdery that he began gagging almost immediately. "Aptly named," he coughed, fishing a coin out of his pocket and passing it over as he choked down the rest of the cookie.

Grinning, Morgana leaned against the cart and waited for him to finish wrestling with her cookie. When his coughs had mostly subsided and his taste buds were considering a mutiny, she spoke.

"So, what information is it that you're searching for?"

Leaning forward and looking around for eavesdroppers - there were none. No one seemed willing to risk their lives on Morgana's hellish baking - Talon met the angel's eyes.

"I want to know about Diana."

ðˠɫ

**A.N**

**Forgive me for the shortness of this chapter! I had more planned for both segments but I found myself ending the Diana section early due to story reasons (it just felt better that way!) and the Talon section early due to cliffhanger reasons.**

**Big, huge, massive thanks to Stolenwarpig, whose insights and ideas helped me give Diana something to do this chapter!**

**Now I need your help - all of you. I could very easily skip the Talon-Morgana conversation and refer to it later on. Would you prefer to experience the whole conversation right now or just have flashback-type references to it in later chapters?**

**Let me know right down there. ↘**


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